


royalty

by shxme



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Dragon Anatomy, Enduring Sword Talon, M/M, Obsidian Dragon Sett, Some light d/s, Very Light A/B/O, blending two skinlines together, dwagons on dwagons, maximum smut, minimal plot, sett's just stoked to smash a dragon, some power dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shxme/pseuds/shxme
Summary: Sett's won more trophies than he can count, wandered far and wide in search of a good fight. This is one prize he's not sure about adding to his collection.A night with a dragon.
Relationships: Talon Du Couteau/Sett (League of Legends)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	royalty

**Author's Note:**

> i'll change the title and description later. sorry i was super sick lol. this is just smut. sett's hot ok

The crowd is out for blood. Sett can tell before he even steps into the arena. The ceiling shakes from all the people drumming their feet in the stands above and dust wafts down from the rafters. It’s the buildup that gets Sett going. Makes him all antsy just waiting for the fight to start.

He cracks his knuckles, rubs a smudge off the front of his dark gauntlet. The wide waiting room is filled with people, mostly men—a few women, all decked out in gladiatorial gear. Many of them carry weapons, swords and axes and heavy flails. Some of them have got nothing except their fists and whatever sits beneath their skin. Sett’s not worried. Confidence is warm in his chest. He’s fought in countless coliseums and acquired enough gold and trophies to make anyone jealous, that’s why he can feel the narrow-eyed stares drilling into his back. People recognize him and his reputation and his— _dragon_. Especially known for that.

A dragon fighting for a dragon, how perfect. Honestly, Sett’s not sure he’s all that interested in the prize he’ll get for winning. Sure he’s heard the dragon king is a looker, but he’s gotta be someone real stuffy. Royalty is _always_ stuffy and stuck-up. The type of person to look down on someone just cause of their birthplace or upbringing. He’s had plenty of experience with that.

“Hey, Sett.” The sharp tone knocks him out of his thoughts and Sett locks eyes with an armored brick of a man, a longsword in his hand. “Don’t get caught out by anyone else cause I wanna be the one to put you down. For last time.”

 _For last time._ Sett squints at him. Sure, he does seem vaguely familiar. He must have fought him before at _some_ point. But where? The Western shores? Somewhere in Valoran maybe?

“I ain’t even know your name.”

The man is clearly affronted. He curls his lip and spits ugly on the floor. “You keep that attitude up so I can gut it out of you.”

At the end of the room the metal gate leading to the arena slowly cranks open. Sett rolls his shoulders, anticipation rising as the noise of the crowd grows louder. The people around him start shuffling towards the light, knocking their blades against their bracers in anticipation.

“Sure, whatever,” he sighs. “Enjoy talkin’ while you still got teeth.”

Although it _might_ not be the biggest fight Sett’s participated in, this competition may just be the most important. The rules are simple. Nobody is fighting for gold or a trophy. Per tradition, the champion of today’s battle will have the honor of helping a dragon through his heat. 

_Heat_. Sett knows a thing or two about that. Can feel it beating on his bare skin as he steps out into the gritty arena. _There it is,_ a boiling temperature in his stomach as the crowd becomes deafening. Scanning the spectators, Sett quickly identifies the castle’s private box and the blue robed guards and the king between them. White hair is the only thing he really picks out from that distance, but he already expected that much. _Ivory-haired and flawless_ is what people have said about him. _Regal. Talon._

Sett’s way more interested in the fight itself. Fifty renowned challengers brawling for the chance to fuck a dragon. Now _that’s_ entertainment. Some of the people here are real ugly too, in his opinion. Sett might be a little scuffed and scarred but he ain’t bad looking. There’s confidence in that. When he wins—because Sett’s gonna win—he might just turn down Talon anyway to see the look on his snobby face. That’d be a roar.

The king’s steward recites the rules, voice booming across the stands. Meanwhile, Sett kicks the tension out of his legs. People are still staring at him, he can feel it. His fingers are already starting to heat up and he hasn’t even thrown a punch yet. It’s easier to focus on the molten magic than the droning noble so for a couple seconds he loses himself. When he closes his eyes energy becomes a second heartbeat in his chest, thumping with the crowd and the rhythm of the fighters beating their weapons together. 

A great horn blows, obnoxious and brassy as the steward utters his final words.

“Good luck.”

Sett grins at nothing. He doesn’t need luck. 

The instant the fight begins it is chaos. Sett isn’t the only one with something special in his veins and he’s immediately caught up dueling a tall man with an axe and a fistful of black ice. Around them, others are locked in combat and Sett can already smell fresh blood. He dodges his opponent’s wide swing, ducks under a spray of icicles and cracks him across the chin so hard that he goes limp. _One hit._ His hand tingles with warmth.

Two more men take him on at once. Sett lives for this, the wild drums of the crowd as magic twists down his arms. Now when he throws out his fists, fire strikes with him. He can hear a roar in his ears every time his punches connect. They can take a little more than the other guy can so for a second they trade blows until Sett wins that too by backstepping and bashing both of their heads together. They ain’t dead but they’ve got broken noses at the very least.

Once Sett stands over the two bodies instinct drives him to glance up at the stands where the king himself is sitting. He still can’t make out his face but he feels like he’s being stared at. As if the dragon can tell what magic he’s using even amidst the chaos. _I’ve got what you’ve got,_ Sett thinks. _An unsophisticated guy like me._

An iron flail entering his field of vision breaks him out of his reverie and Sett flies back into action. His body is red-hot and unstoppable and the crowd is booming, howling as he grabs the chain and yanks it and the owner closer, straight into his knee.

By the time Sett runs into the nobody from earlier he is coated in sweat and the air around him shimmers with heat. A couple scrapes, sore scratches and shallow cuts have been collected on his skin but they barely hurt at all. Every ache is carried away by his adrenaline. 

The stranger—not really a stranger, but to Sett he is—points his longsword at him. “You’re still standing.”

Between them bodies are scattered in the sand. Some people are awake and already trying to crawl away with whatever they have left. Others won’t wake up at all. Sett doesn’t really get that. Did they actually want this prize so badly that they’d die for it? 

His hands are burning hot so he blows on his fingertips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Always giving so much lip.” The man stalks forward. He’s got more reach because of his sword and he swings it diagonally so that Sett’s got no choice but to sidestep completely. When he does, the man hits him in the stomach with his free hand and forces the breath out of him. 

“Lowlife,” the guy hisses, swinging his sword back the other way. Sett can’t dodge this one so he angles his arm up to meet it instead, forcing the flat of the blade away with the back of his gauntlet. The weapon goes flying into the air and clatters dully onto the sand twenty paces away.

The man backs up, clearly furious. “You think just cause you’ve got a little magic that you’re entitled to a dragon?” That really rubs Sett the wrong way. Cause why _wouldn’t_ he be entitled to a dragon? Is he not good enough? Who even _is_ this guy? Any thoughts of rejecting Talon outright are laid by the wayside. Change of plans, he’ll go to bed with him outta spite now. Sett glances up at the stands but the spot where the king was is empty. _Where’d he go?_

“I don’t like your attitude,” he snaps, licks fire off his bottom lip. Anger is coiling across his shoulders and now it takes form across his knuckles. A _dragon_. His challenger can see it, Sett can _feel_ it. Phantom claws scratch his skin and promise fire in his blood. This time when he dashes forward a roar erupts from his throat, heard even over the crowd. The show stopper.

In the second before his fist collides Sett is nothing but force and flame and fang. 

As the dust finally settles Sett is not the only one alive, but he _is_ the only one still standing. Smoke wafts off his fingertips and the sand below him is mixed with tiny fragments of freshly-formed glass. 

The crowd is endless. Sett breathes in the victory and the thrill. It feels _too_ _good_ to win. 

How could he be anything less than a champion? 

***

The halls of the clifftop castle are uniquely quiet. Sett isn’t impressed by fancy architecture and marble columns. At least the colors are nice, admittedly. Dark blues can be found in the carpet and in the arching ceiling.

Through the windows he passes he can see the rest of the coast and the tiny arena in the distance, down the sloping green hills. 

“A good view, huh?” 

His escort doesn’t respond but her gaze flickers to him. Silent. All the guards have barely spoken despite every attempt at conversation. Sett’s wounds had been bandaged and he’d been given the opportunity to tidy himself up a little but really he hadn’t done much. Wiped some dirt and sweat away and took off his headpiece and combed a couple fingers through his hair and that’s all. He doesn’t really care whatever this royal thinks about him. The dragon Talon. Guess that’s a good name for a dragon. 

He’s led up a shallow staircase and down another winding set of halls until there is only one entrance. A grand looking white door with a gold handle. 

“In here?”

The guard raps on the door twice and unlocks it with a thin key. Sett’s feeling a little awkward now. It’s weird when he’s the only one talking. Maybe he _could_ just refuse him. It’d still be funny to see it.

The door is pushed open just enough for Sett to step inside and as soon as he does it shuts firmly. Behind him, the lock clicks. Sett wiggles the doorknob, double checking, before turning around.

It’s dim. And far messier than expected. The room alone is bigger than the house Sett was born in. Worn down candles are scattered across the various dressers and tired candlelight leaves the room largely dark on the right side. Clothes are scattered around messily, some even on the floor. To the left, tall balcony doors have been opened and the breeze seeps past the sheer curtains along with the sound of waves crashing against the cliffside far below. The horizon line is red.

In the center of the room the bed is piled high with pillows and it is empty. 

Sett takes a few cautious steps deeper into the room. On the shelf next to him is a collection of shiny mechanical trinkets. He glances at them curiously. They’re copper and complex and he doesn’t understand what a dragon king would want with them. There’s something to be said about the idea of a dragon’s hoard, but Sett doesn’t know much truth there is in that.

A blade comes out of nowhere. Only reflex keeps Sett’s stomach from being split open as he stumbles backwards against the door. 

_“Shit,"_ he swears as his attacker reveals himself. It _is_ him. How’d Sett not notice him? The same white hair and blue robes he’d recognized from a distance, except this time he can see his face clearly. Sharp features and a haughty kind of warning in his eyes. _No wonder they locked the door,_ Sett thinks, heartbeat loud between his ears.

“I thought you wanted me here to _fuck_ you.” He snarls, voice louder than he would have liked. “Not _fight_ you.”

As he watches, Talon’s expression softens into one of discomfort. The elegant knife he’d been brandishing falls to the floor next to Sett’s dropped headgear and the king slinks away to sit on the edge of the bed. Sett might have whiplash from how fast the mood has changed.

“But if you wanted to fight—I’d still be...” he trails off at Talon’s half-lidded stare. People were right about him, he’s _good_ lookin’ but also—what kind of game is this? Doesn’t exactly look like a dragon except the eyes—amber and glassy. He remembers a similar gaze years ago. There’s the same level of intensity hidden in them. 

Talon continues to stare at him and Sett can’t help but feel self-conscious. He knows he’s being appraised and it’s hard to resist the urge to flex an arm and give him something nicer to look at. Instead, he shifts from one foot to the other. It’s _awkward._ Sett usually wouldn’t give a damn about it but he’s supposed to go to bed with this guy. And sure he’s had one night stands before but not when they’re preplanned. 

“How’d you wanna do this?” He speaks up finally, clearing his throat. For Talon it’s like a spell’s broken and Sett doesn’t miss the way his trembling legs press together.

The dragon tips his head back and it’s in the way he holds himself that Sett sees the royalty shine through. He raises one perfectly manicured hand and suddenly another ornate knife is there, flips across his fingers before it’s gone into thin air.

Sett’s transfixed on his mouth when he talks, lips pink and luring. “Hold me down.”

Even with the balcony doors open and the sea salt breeze, the temperature in the room noticeably rises. Sett can’t help it. It’s not what he expected _at all._ For someone so posh looking to say that? He’d imagine that royalty would want to be treated like—royalty. Gentle, soft and sweet. Doted upon.

“You want me to be rough?” His words tumble out low and Talon noticeably squirms, bites the corner of his lip. Sett glances around at the messy room and thinks maybe this king isn’t as put together and posh as everyone says he is. “You want that?” He moves closer. “Tell me what you need cause I ain’t no mind reader.” There’s a fire starting to spark in his belly. 

“You can be rough,” Talon agrees and his quiet voice digs into Sett’s skin. “Break my heat.”

How’s he supposed to say no to someone that looks like that? Originally he’d wanted to snub him and leave him wanting. Now that Sett can see all the details in Talon’s face he couldn’t imagine leaving him out to dry. 

He quickly strips down to his underwear, feeling less awkward than before. Perhaps he’s emboldened by the way the sun bleeds into the ocean outside. By the time he's finished Talon's done away with just his pants and his legs are pale against the royal blue covers and the sapphire of his robe. Sett wants to touch them—and he realizes he _can_ —so he sidles closer and smooths his palm over Talon’s outer thigh. The dragon shivers at the sudden contact, letting out a shallow breath. Sett doesn’t know the faintest thing about dragon anatomy and he’s tempted to reach between Talon’s legs to find what’s there. He decides against it. If he gets one night with a king as a prize then he’ll take his time and savor it.

“Lay down,” he orders warmly. Talon does as he says. He shimmies backwards onto the bed and Sett follows, climbing over him. The expensive mattress sinks under his weight and Talon’s whining endlessly. Sett doesn’t know if he even realizes he’s doing it. He grins as greedy hands wander across his arms and chest. 

Talon cranes up to try and kiss him and their teeth click together from the force of it. Sett’s entranced at the way he melts against him. So _warm._ He takes Talon’s wrists and presses them into the covers with his weight and Sett’s knee wedges his legs open. The dragon gasps sharply into his mouth, flinching. Sett breaks away from the kiss and bites his lips, moves lower to his throat and tastes sharp blood when he finally sits back on his haunches. Beneath him Talon’s face is red and he’s fidgeting against his knee, already in pieces. Light casts deep shadows across him on the bed. _What a sight._

“I get all of you?” Sett asks, reaching down to feel Talon’s silky white hair.

He’s whining again, pale eyes narrow under his bangs. Sett sees his toned chest peeking enticingly through his half-open robe. _Royalty_. There’s something so satisfying about being on top. _An unsophisticated guy like me._ It’s definitely a power trip, for sure, but it’s also more than that. Talon is nothing short of stunning. The longer Sett looks at him the more heat gathers in his head and his gut. As if the magic in his blood _knows._

“Hey, flip over,” he says when he gets no answer. With a sturdy grip he manhandles Talon onto his hands and knees and once he’s there Sett presses across his back and kisses his neck. His still trapped cock rubs stiffly against Talon’s ass and the king grinds backwards, clearly starving for it. _What a sight._ Sett runs his hand over his backside, touching and squeezing and finally reaching lower between his legs. To his surprise, his hand finds a tender opening and his fingers immediately dip inside. Not _exactly_ what he was expecting, but it’s welcome nonetheless. Inside of Talon it is soft and soaking.

“You’re so _wet,”_ he murmurs against Talon’s ear, almost impressed. The king muffles a sob in the sheets and his body clenches around his twisting fingers and Sett realizes that he’s _already_ come undone, just like that. He doesn’t fully know how heats work but this dragon must be so _sensitive_. Gods he wants to fuck him. Wants to _rail_ him, but more than that Sett wants the satisfaction that comes with a helplessly worked up dragon king.

“Felt good, huh?” he murmurs, grazing his fangs over Talon’s neck. He pushes his fingers deeper and spreads them to feel Talon bucking against his hand shamelessly. He’s full of surprises, really. From the room to the attitude to the softness between his thighs. 

Sett suddenly pulls out and Talon’s displeasure is obvious. His hips continue to move against nothing as Sett sits back on the bed. It’s extravagantly large and he’s got plenty of room to move around, even with his height.

“C’mere, get my dick wet.”

Talon looks over his shoulder at him, gaze withering. “Just—fuck me—“ he manages to get out, looking for all the world like a spoiled noble who didn’t get what he asked for.

“You gotta do this first,” Sett says firmly. He slaps Talon’s ass once to help him get a move on and it works since the dragon jolts into action, scrambling around to crawl between Sett’s legs. He looks perfect.

Talon hooks a finger in Sett’s underwear and tugs it down. His nose wrinkles at the sight of him and Sett chuckles. 

“A cock fit for a king.” He might be enjoying this a little too much. 

Talon glares at him. His eyes are so _intense._ Definitely a dragon’s stare. He curls his hand around the base of Sett’s cock and licks the tip. 

“Don’t be too enthusiastic—” Sett’s words are cut short as Talon takes him into his mouth. He stares at the sight of it. The king’s eyes are closed and he bobs his head, eyelashes fluttering and full, dark eyebrows drawn together in concentration. Sett cups his jaw, easing him through the motions, guiding him deeper. For a few minutes the room is quiet except the breeze and the breathing and the slick sounds of Talon’s mouth. “ _You look like you belong down there,”_ he might say, but it’s hard to throw jabs at someone who’s got your entire livelihood between their teeth.

“You ain’t half bad,” is what he croaks instead. Talon looks up at him then, bangs falling in his face, eyes watery. Sett swallows back a groan. “Hang on hang on.” He pulls Talon’s head away. “That’s enough.”

The dragon’s face shines with need. He wipes his mouth with his arm and sits back on the bed. His robe practically hangs off of one shoulder so Sett reaches out to pull the rest of it off. In the lowlight Talon is pale and otherworldly. Someone more exciting than any fight.

Sett pushes him down into the covers and Talon returns to his hands and knees. There’s really too many pillows on the bed. Sett throws a couple of them to the floor. Meanwhile, Talon can’t stay still, squirming and reaching and mewling nonstop at the promise of being fucked. Sett’s attempts at hushing him as he kicks his underwear off are futile. He reaches between Talon’s legs again and finds him _sopping._

“Fuck, you really want it, huh?” He shuffles closer, till his cock is pressing against the cleft of Talon’s ass and his crying gets louder. The king glances back at him, cheeks wet.

“My name’s Sett, dunno if you knew.” He pinches Talon’s backside gently. “Lemme hear you beg for it.”

He can see the internal struggle on his face and Sett loves it. He slides his cock along the outside of Talon’s hole. _Almost_ there, but not yet. He wants it too. Wants to plunge inside that wet heat and break him apart.

“Fuck me,” Talon finally speaks up, voice small.

“I’m the one giving orders.”

The king slaps his hand against the covers in frustration. Sett watches the lines in his back and shoulders tense up while he rubs circles into his hips, letting him rut against his cock. 

_“Please_ fuck me.”

“Who?” Sett knows his grin is audible.

For another minute Talon stews in silence. Sett sticks a thumb in him for a second, just to tease him and feel the way he instantly clenches around him. How far can he push this before either of their self-control snaps?

“Please—fuck me—Sett,” Talon tries one more time, weak but venomous.

“You don’t sound sincere.” 

The king makes a frustrated wail and buries his head in the covers. Sett lets him, even though his own body is burning with anticipation. Did he push him too far? Talon is sniffling and Sett is once again reminded of someone who’s spoiled beyond repair. 

“Please—“ Talon sounds hopelessly broken. “Please fuck me, please I _need_ it Sett _please_ it _hurts.”_

His face is suddenly burning up. Sett rubs Talon’ back. “It hurts?” He didn’t know that. Despite his magic he really doesn’t know much about dragons, especially dragons in heat.

“It _aches_. Too empty—“ Talon bites out, crying. “Need you in me. Sett— _please.”_

He’s never been more aroused in his life. A dragon _king_ begging beneath him, crying for a good cock. _His_ cock. Sett can give him that at least. 

He slips the tip of his cock inside and for a single breath he’s blown away by the wet fire inside. Something clicks in his head—maybe the magic in his blood—because it feels perfect, Talon is _perfect._ In another moment the rest of him starts to slide in and it is _tight._ Sett can’t hear anything except the blood rushing in his head. When he can eventually hear again Talon is keening and Sett can’t hold back anymore. He hooks his hands around Talon’s hips and pulls him back the rest of the way, till his whole cock is embedded in Talon’s lovely body.

“Shit—“ He says shakily, leans down to breathe warm fire across his neck. “You like it large?” He rubs his hands up Talon’s sides and the dragon moans, voice cracking.

 _“Oh,”_ Sett realizes. “You like it _hot.”_ That actually makes perfect sense. Dragons and warmth go together hand in hand. He pulls out almost completely and thrusts back in to see the way Talon’s back arches and he _screams,_ clenches around his cock and comes just from that alone. Something primal is clawing its way out of Sett’s body. He can feel his magic taking root. 

Sett lets him recover for only a few heartbeats before he continues. He grabs the dragon’s wrists and pulls them in time with his thrusts to yank him back into his cock. Talon is in tears, bucking against his body, and sure Sett is rough but he’s not _that_ rough because there’s still something about Talon that is delicate and that’s something Sett wants to keep in the same way a dragon hoards gold.

But he’s not particularly gentle. Every slap of their thighs is loud and Talon’s cries steadily evolve into struggling huffs and gasps. Eventually Sett lets go of his wrists in favor of locking his hands around his hips and Talon immediately buries his face in his arms. 

“Hey.” Sett presses his palm flat between his shoulder blades. “You alright?” 

Talon doesn’t respond with words but he’s still stuttering with every hard thrust. Sett can’t help but be a little worried. They don’t know each other well enough for him to understand his reactions. He pulls out and Talon immediately reaches behind him, whimpering

_“No—”_

Sett hushes him. “Roll over, I wanna see you.”

Talon’s face is flushed and his hair sticks to his forehead and his shoulders. Sett helps prop up his hips with a pillow and grabs his slick thighs and tugs him closer. This time when he enters him Talon’s back arches up stunningly, fingers twisting in the sheets. Maybe he comes _again—_ Sett can’t fully tell but he marvels at it. All of it. The way Talon’s chest seethes up and down as he breathes, sinking into the bed. The darkening marks on his skin, the shine of his eyes, the neverending _tightness_. There’s fire curling in Sett’s stomach and in his hands. He leans over Talon, trapping him between his arms so he can kiss him. Talon’s mouth is hot and he latches on to him, winds his arms around his neck and pulls Sett close to feel their burning skin press together. 

Sett comes suddenly. Perhaps every moment catches up to him at once and he sinks his fangs into Talon’s neck and groans, bites him three more times just to hear the sensitive shriek that the king lets out. When he pulls away his skin is sticky with sweat and they’re both messes and Sett feels so _alive,_ practically vibrating with heat and magic. It’s so hot. Talon’s eyes are fluttering closed and he blinks blearily at him, clearly overtaken by the temperature. Sett looks between the dragon’s legs to see a bead of white beginning to drip out. The sudden satisfaction is immense, even alongside the afterglow of an orgasm. _A dragon._ He fucked _a dragon._ Even more, a _king._ It almost feels as if the energy inside is pleased with what he’s done today. That primal feeling.

Talon yawns and curls up on the bed, naked and flushed and filled. Sett fans himself with his hands before laying down next to him. The coastal wind is starting to cool down the room now that their fires have been put out, but it’s still very warm.

“Why’d you leave early? At the fight?” He asks, draping one arm over Talon’s waist. The king can’t seem to keep his hands off his biceps but Sett can’t blame him for that. He thinks that Talon probably likes ‘em big and strong, hence the competition in the first place.

“My heat started early,” the dragon answers sleepily.

“Don’t you worry about gettin’ pregnant? If that’s a thing you can do.”

He glances back at him, serious. “Humans can’t do that to me.”

Sett can’t resist leaning in to kiss him. “Y’know I ain’t all that human.” His ears alone are proof of that.

“Mortals, then.”

Waves echo against the cliff-side and the sky outside has turned a heavy shade of crimson. Sett wasn’t all that impressed by the castle but Talon’s room feels different. Maybe because of how unexpectedly messy it is, full of odds and ends. _A hoard,_ he supposes. Maybe there’s more truth to that description than he’d originally thought. 

“How long do your heats last?” He asks in the dim quiet.

“Several days,” Talon mumbles, pressing his back against Sett’s chest. Sett knows now that he’s trying to leech the warmth from his body. They’re a good match, he realizes. A dragon and someone filled with the strongest fire. Who better to sate Talon’s heat than Sett? Feels almost meant to be. _And_ he gets more time with him? Sett has no love for royalty but secretly he’s elated. Talon is addictive. Handsome and prideful and surprisingly soft. Though Sett is no dragon himself, he does have the same magic in his blood. He might be inclined to keeping his own hoard if Talon is his catch.

**Author's Note:**

> i know the obsidian dragon gives strength and thick skin. that’s more shown rather than told. in all his skin effects it looked pretty molten so i couldn't resist adding in more heat elements. 
> 
> anyway i couldn't resist putting them together sorry their skins clicked. i'll re-edit this later. ;w;
> 
> ty for comments/kudos, etc. it's all super appreciated, thanks so much for the support! my twitter is @shxmes if you wanna be there for my league rambles. tumblr is @no-shxmes and there's a bunch of requests and prompt fills there that i haven't posted anywhere else. no pressure or anything tho.
> 
> till next time :^)


End file.
